To Make You Live Again
by YamiWestley
Summary: Faust VIII has found Eliza dead. With his heart broken he attempts to find the way back to sanity. But nothing is working because life without Eliza is not a life at all.
1. Broken

Lighting corrupted the skies above. There sat a pale lover, whose eyes were as black as night. Along side him was a girl, a dying girl. One who was known as Eliza.

Her blond hair scattered along side her broken body. The stars twinkled like fallen tears in the night sky. And oh did those tears come!

"Eliza. Dear God, Eliza." These words were like a broken song, withered in the wind. His coarse hand felt her cold skin. All senses were numbed. This was no dream. How could this be a dream if these feelings were so real? That night became nightmare. Demons came up from under the floor, grasping the pale lover. His eyes grew dark and cold. Shadows formed under his eyes, grasping the darkness that was the night.

Parched, the pale lover liked the wound of his beloved. Licking his lips he smiled as though he had completely lost his mind, "I must bring her back. I must see my love's face again, smiling and happy. She was not meant to die this way. No, she was never meant to die. I must baffle death. I must bring her back to me. Oh my love, if only I could give you the world!"

But sadly, he knew not the art of resurrection. She was just an empty shell, a lifeless doll lying on the floor. Without her he was lost in circles. Without her his world meant nothing. Without her...

The world was no more then a hell.

"She shall live again." His words were soft, "I shall make my love live again. And together we shall become one again and my heart will sing sweet melodies again. And you," his head turned towards her, "will be my lovely wife again." The tears turned to madness as a new scheme fell into place.

Her resurrection meant life to her but it also meant life to him.


	2. Failure

The thunder pounded the rain onto the windows as the endless night droned on. So our scene continues as the pale lover enters the dank room. His glassy eyes stared down onto naked wife. Though death had taken her soul, her body still remained almost perfection. All that was flawed was the bloodstained wound embedded into her skull.

There was no naturally humane way to cure death. This thought did not prevent him to pursue to reach his goal. It was only an inconvenience. Blood dripped down her skull like the raindrops did on the window. He held her body in his embrace, gently placing it on a cold table.

It was a desolate room filled with scrolls and books. Dust three inches thick covered them. These were five hundred year old texts authored by the very first Faust: Dr. Faustus. They contained the ancient art of Necromancy, the art of raising the dead. If modern methods could not bring his beloved into his arms again, then he would revert back to the ways man defeated death in the past.

Hours passed. Thunder played dissonant chords outside as though they sensed the awakening of the forbidden knowledge. Meanwhile the pale lover's obsession intensified. Practices of the magic became daily rituals. But though these actions were repeated, the pale lover still could not raise his beloved out of her slumber.

"Damn. Damn. Damn." His fist hammered the concrete wall, "What is it? Why does she not wake? I have tried so many times now to the point my hope as too swallowed in the darkness. No... No I can't give in. She's life. I cannot lose my war with death!" Still he perused lovebird. Inspiration became obsession once again. It was a never-ending cycle of failure.

Until that night when _she_ rose again...


	3. Demonic Melody

Twelve repetitive clicks gave time where it was needed. But to Faust VIII, time was just a foolish human idea and nothing more. _Midnight?_ Though the passionate doctor, _Ah midnight it is indeed. The preparations have been set. It is now or never. My love shall rise tonight to join the moon!_ His hand creased more wrinkles in the shriveled paper, the key to his success. For twelve long nights he waited for the night for his love to rise. For twelve long nights his patience wore thin. For Eliza he would die a thousand deaths or at least twelve.

The only comfort he found in those twelve painful nights was an old grand piano he found. Its condition could have been compared to an immortal being. Though its frame had long since worn away from what it used to be, the piano managed to endure. This quality, endurance, was what the brokenhearted lover admired out of the old piano. It had been his father's and his father's and so on and so on. This old piano was a living reminder of the past and how it stayed with one throughout the generations. Faust knew that all too well.

He left his beloved's side momentarily to see the old piano. Though it had been not tuned for nearly twenty years, Faust still found pleasure in its song. He raised his fingers once more and started to play.

The melody was deafening, like the sound of an insane man slamming up against a wall. Beside the old sheet music he had laid, Faust set a notepad of instructions, the instructions needed for necromancy to work. He cried out over the sound of the deadly piano's screams, the splatter of the rain, and the clashing of the lighting. He spoke these words:

_When I say to the moment, 'Stay, thou art so beautiful!' then mayst thou fetter me straightaway."_

For a moment the thunder stopped and the rains ceased. There was only the sound of Faust breathing heavily, anxious and impatient. Silence crept and stalked, haunting every corner of Faust's mind. But as he listened intently, he heard not a solo of breathing, but a duet. His feet instantly leapt off of the ground and landed at Eliza's side, hoping.

"Eliza…Eliza, my love, are you…are you…" His words were rushed but there was a reason why. She sat up and looked at him with the beautiful azure eyes he knew all too well, "Eliza! My love!" So he pulled out the other notepad and read the pact the Faust only nine generations ago said to Mephistopheles. All that changed was that he read that he would pledge his life and love to her instead of his soul. She smiled and agreed. It was now what to do now that they _were _together again. There was always the thought that crosses the mind of those who lost their loved ones (and sanity)…

_Revenge_


	4. Lethal Reasoning

To the citizens of Germany, it was the day hell rose. The angels screamed words plagued with pain, as though their feathers were being ripped off one by one. There was no God to the citizens that fateful night, at least not to the victims.

Men became bloodied rag dolls sprawled out on the ground as though a child had cast them aside after playtime. The frightened child with his new plaything arose from the darkness of the midnight hour, "TELL ME WHERE ARE THE MURDERERS OF MY PERFECT LOVE!" There was a brush of wind as he passed with the eyes of a raven, "You who tells me will be spared. You who don't will perish by the hand of my reincarnated beloved!" In the stained moonlight, daggers of eyes peered into the hearts of the citizens. Men and women alike ran towards whatever they could find was shelter. _Nothing_ was a shelter, not to this madman.

No one would admit to the crime. No one dared. It was as though something had washed away Faust's innocence. His life's devotion, his research but most importantly, his whole life had been swept away by the shot of a single gun. He watched her suffering. He tried to cure it. Now she was just a shell of her former self; a threshold for solitude and devotion. He had failed. But no one had to know that, not while he still had her by his side. Now instead of walking in the flowers together, he tore flowers apart seeking the blood of others.

Finally a man stood forward. He was slender and tall, eyes were as pure as day. A women, who oddly resembled Eliza, sat trembling by his side. She let go of his arms the moment he stood forward.

"You there!" He called to Faust. Faust swerved around to face another obstacle, "Why do you kill? I must know. Before I am dead by your stained hands, I must know!"

Faust didn't say anything for a moment then his eyes lit up with passionate fire, "I kill for love."

"Love? Odd but understandable."

"Understandable? You understand nothing, whelp!" The man nodded. He, of coarse, didn't. But somehow, Faust had a feeling in his gut he did.

"I understand one thing; it was me that killed your lovely Eliza. My wife and I were starving. I was too hasty. My hunger and my anger took hold of me and I repent for my actions. However, I know that you will not let me go. I will die by my sin," he turned to leave, "however, I don't want to die just yet." His eyes too lit up. The once blue eyes that had stared down so innocently were now fueled as well by the passion for blood and love.

Faust paused as he watched his whole body erupt in flames miles high. It took a while for Faust to get a hold of it but he realized something significant.

_He wasn't the only one who knew necromancy._

Skeletons rose from the ground. The world felt like one giant earthquake, everything coming out of the earth. Hell was truly unleashed.

"How… how did you gain that much power?" The lover gasped as skeletons rose from every which way.

The man smirked, eyes flashing at the moon in the sky, "I shouldn't tell you. That's half the battle. I will tell you one thing though: you will find me at the Shaman King tournament in Tokyo. If you want your revenge, find me there." With that, the world ended in a blinding light and everything fell to the ground. The young lover drifted off into dreams of his lovely song Eliza and the terrible murderer that took her away from him.


End file.
